


They Don't Argue

by Kayim



Category: Leverage, The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: fic_promptly, Crossover Pairings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that they don't ever disagree on things, because anyone who's been in the same room as them for more than five minutes will be able to tell you that there's plenty that they disagree on, but they don't argue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Argue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fic promptly prompt of The Losers/Leverage, Jensen/Eliot, arguing

They don't argue.

It's not that they don't ever disagree on things, because anyone who's been in the same room as them for more than five minutes will be able to tell you that there's plenty that they disagree on, but they don't argue.

Jensen will sulk like a child, muttering under his breath - and to anyone else who will listen - how unfair and ridiculous the whole thing is. Occasionally he'll even stomp his feet and cross his arms, making Eliot wonder why he even bothers. And then he'll sit in front of his computer and not say a word.

Eliot prefers to take his frustration out in a more physical manner. He'll retreat to the kitchen, slicing and dicing any food that dares get in his way. He'll bake bread, kneading the dough with a little more force and for a little longer than is usual.

The concept of the way to a man's heart being through his stomach is outdated, but the smell of fresh bread will always be one of Jensen's favorite things in the world (rating just behind the sight of Eliot working out in the gym, and just ahead of listening to Eliot singing) and he taps out a message on his phone.

He watches as Eliot pulls his own phone from his pocket, glancing first at the screen to read the message, and then over at Jensen.

Eliot doesn't reply, but the next time Jensen looks up from his computer screen, there's a bread roll sitting on a plate. The extra kneading means that it's a little chewier than it would usually be, but Jensen smiles as he takes another bite.

They don't argue, and they don't apologize.

At least not with words.


End file.
